The Tree in the story has lived a long life and when a twister destroys it, it is made into a yoke.
'Seems funny not to see her spreadin' above us, don't it?" said Jed. 'But if a tree could think, I'll bet she's mighty glad to be a yoke, swingin' along, tinklin' pretty. That tree was too held down. Always pointin' as if she wanted to follow us on the Trail (Santa Fe Trail). Now she can go beyond her hill, away out yonder-- father than she ever dreamed.
Maybe it's that way with people, sort of. They git rooted down, too. Along comes some disaster, or what looks like it, an' they feel lost. But, maybe, if they only knew-- all that's happened to 'em is that they've been freed. Freed to go farther than they ever thought. Maybe they's bells waitin' for them, too. Bells that will tinkle inside 'em somewhere...'
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